


shadows lost in the light

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-04
Updated: 2008-08-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:10:11
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8746096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: A little drabble about the aftermath of Sam's decision.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Dean sinks back against the warm leather, inhales the smell of oil and grease, and lets it ground him in the now. He’s got a job to do and sitting back, reminiscing and regretting isn’t going to do him a damn bit of good. People need him, they need someone to protect them and to fight for them-something no one’s ever been willing to do for Dean, and isn’t that just what he needs to be thinking about to move on?

 

For someone so good at running from his emotions, moving on has never been his strong suit. It’s too hard to let go, to know that he’s the only one fighting, and he doesn’t know what to make of that. He’d thought for sure that dad would fight, too. That he would raise hell and yell and scream, putting Dean back in the middle. Somewhere familiar, somewhere safe to Dean as much as he hated the hurt that passed between his brother and his father.

 

The one time Dean needed that from his father, he gave it up. He told Sam to do whatever the hell it was he wanted, but to know that if he decided to leave he couldn’t ever walk back through that door. Back into _Dean’s_ life.

 

In hindsight it was pretty fucking stupid to just nod in shocked agreement, refusing to meet Sam’s eyes as he softly spoke his older brother’s name. _Pleaded_. Dean could have done or said anything, he could have gone after Sam, he could have told his brother to stay. That Dean needed that from him. But like everything else, Dean fucked it up. He couldn’t let go of his pride, or the instinct to just give Sam whatever he wanted, no matter what that meant to Dean.

 

He sighs and scrubs a hand down his face, hates the fact that when he closes his eyes all he sees is his brother’s angry face. He quickly opens his eyes and sucks in a breath, filling his lungs until they ache more than his heart does. Tightening his chest with something other than loss.

 

Dean doesn’t understand how he got here, how after everything, he’d wound up alone. Dad’s gone, Sam’s away at college-and Jesus, _fuck_. He misses Sam. So fucking much. Why can’t he just go to Stanford? Why can’t he just tell his brother that, what he couldn’t say before?

 

Because he’s too tough for that, believes in hiding his emotions, he’s a _Winchester_ , he thinks with more than a little hint of bitterness. Dad’s programmed him to ignore those things, move past whatever slows him down and focus on what’s important-and that’s never Dean. Never the things he wants.

 

And that’s always been okay, always something he could handle, because there was Sam. Sam angry and desperate, fighting for what Dean couldn’t, letting Dean breathe. And when he couldn’t breathe, when he felt things slipping away from him, Sam was always there, warm hand on Dean’s shoulder, nose pressed behind his ear. _You know I’m here, too_ , he would whisper. _You’re not as alone as you think._

 

What a laugh that is now. He’d always known that Sam was there if Dean needed him, but Sam just _being_ there had always been enough. He could ground Dean, give him clarity and strength. So he could hide behind that laugh-those eyes. The one’s Sam used to call him on, shake his head and snort. A scowl twisting Sam’s lips as he moved into Dean’s space. Demanding silently for Dean to fucking be real.

 

_Well_ , he thinks, jerking upright and throwing open the door with a loud creak. He scrambles out of the car, slamming the door with unnecessary force and striding quickly up the walk to the two story house in front of him. Nervous woman peeking through the curtains, waiting for the comfort Dean can hardly find in himself to give anymore. _There’s no one to demand that now._

 

He just hopes he can fake it long enough.


End file.
